


Fanning the Flames

by Nicxan



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: (Mentioned not a full one), Drug Mention (Not a thing -- just mentioned), Fingering, Hypnosis, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Reader has a vagina, Slow Burn, blowjob, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: Your memory is a bit hazy when you wake up in an unfamiliar hotel room. Papa Emeritus I helps you remember everything that happened the night before.Everything.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus I/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 45





	Fanning the Flames

**Author's Note:**

> This was a monster to write, and I may have cursed out my Papa I muse a few times, but it's done!  
> Massive thanks to CaptainAddict, MaverickCheshire, and LordBlumiere for beta-ing this monster of a fic, I am in your collective debt. ;A; 
> 
> Just another quick reminder that this is a _gender neutral reader_ , but the _reader has a vagina_. 
> 
> ENJOY

You woke up in a room you didn’t recognize.  
  
That in of itself was unnerving enough. Your apartment wasn’t like this; it didn’t have carpeted floors. It didn’t have out-of-place dark red curtains hanging over the windows. You sure as hell didn’t have a makeshift canopy on your bed, either. You looked around, bemused -- and then a sharp pain shot through your head. Apparently, light was a bad idea right now.  
  
You buried yourself further under the admittedly comfortable sheets and pulled them over your head. Why did it feel like you were hungover? Why did your whole body seem to be sore? Everything from the night before was so fuzzy. _Did_ you have any drinks?  
  
No, you couldn’t have. You had been assigned the role of the designated driver for your friends. You didn’t listen to much metal, they did, so you agreed just to hang around the venue while they had a good time. You were content with your plan to just chill at the diner, and they were content to get shitfaced. That was fine on all accounts.  
  
You couldn’t remember anything else, though. Everything just hurt too much, but why? You didn’t even _get_ hangovers if you played your cards right. If you didn’t drink at all, what the hell had _happened_ to you? And more importantly, why the hell were you here? Where _was_ here? This was too small to be a hotel room, wasn’t it?  
  
You heard footsteps from the room nearby. Whoever was on the other side at least had the decency to knock on the door before opening it. Initially, you didn’t respond. Maybe if you pretended you were asleep, they’d go away. Instead, you only heard a soft sigh before the door opened.  
  
“I assume you’re awake.” The voice was low. Rumbling. Somewhat familiar, for some reason. You didn’t move from your position, though. If you were going to play being asleep, you had to stay completely still. So, you didn’t move - you stayed perfectly comfortable on the soft mattress, eyes still shut, willing yourself back in your own bed.  
  
Judging from the way you heard the man shuffling around close to the bed, it didn’t work. You were definitely actually here and not dreaming somehow. Damn it.  
  
“It’s good that you are,” the voice continued. “You need to be back home soon, do you not?”  
  
Still no response from you, and you planned on keeping it that w--  
  
“You may play this game with me all you wish, but know that I’m not fooled.” His irritated sigh made you flinch, and the sudden stern tone he took on almost made you feel like a child being scolded. You reluctantly sat up, instinctively grabbing the sheets that fell to keep warm. Was there a draft in here?  
  
You glanced down, only to see your bare chest on display. A quick peek under the blankets showed that you were completely naked. Your mortification must have shown, never mind how hard you must have been blushing. You heard a chuckle from nearby.  
  
“I am not looking.” The relief that washed over you felt like a sick joke, but at least you were able to cover up in peace. You quickly hiked up the blankets again, shifting so your chest was as covered as it could get. The last thing you wanted to do was give some stranger a free show!  
  
“ _Where the hell am I?_ ” You’re not sure if it was the shock or embarrassment that was the reason you sound more assertive than you felt. Really, you didn’t care. “And who are you? Why am I --”  
  
“It will come to you in time.” He sounded so serene about this. So relaxed. Probably instigated this whole thing, if you had to guess. You turned your head to glare at the stranger, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but the words died on the tip of your tongue.  
  
You weren’t expecting him to look a bit familiar. You hadn’t met him! Maybe it was the robes; they looked like the ones on those pictures that your friends had showed you. They were shiny, black, with some kind of red drape in the middle, adorned with upside-down crosses.  
  
Maybe it was the skull face paint? That looked pretty distinctive. Yet despite him looking terrifying, he seemed to have a calm aura about him. You couldn’t bear to look at him for too long, though. Something about his eyes just made you uneasy. Heterochromia wasn’t a big deal, but even still ...  
  
Wait. No, you knew why he looked familiar to you. You didn’t remember the name of whatever group he was a part of, but your friends had shown you their promotion pictures advertising their first tour. These must have been the people your friends went to see last night.  
  
“You’re that new Satanic band,” you sputtered.  
  
“Correct.” What was his name? Papa Emeritus? Whatever his name was, he was adding some sugar to his tea. At least, you assumed it was tea. Fuck, why the hell was this guy drinking _tea_ ? Weren’t Satanists supposed to drink the blood of their enemies or something like that? “You’re very astute.” You’re not sure if that was meant to be mocking or not. Your eye twitched.  
  
“Let me go home.” Now, you sounded pleading. You knew how pathetic it must have sounded, but you didn’t really care about that right now. “I don’t want to be here, so just please let me go.”  
  
“You’re in no state to walk,” Papa said simply. “Have breakfast first.”  
  
You’re not sure what you expected from theistic Satanists, but it wasn’t that. While that food did smell good, you weren’t going to just blindly trust an anti-pope. For all you knew, that food was poisoned. Papa be damned - you were going to walk, even if you were still stumbling a little bit. That wasn’t going to stop you.  
  
You threw off the sheets, no longer caring if he saw you; you just wanted to get your clothes on and get the hell out of there. It took some effort to stand. It didn’t help that your legs felt like jelly, nor did it help that your knees basically buckled the moment you tried to take a step forward. Your death grip on the bed stopped you from falling over. The sheets were soft. Silken. Cool against your skin ...  
  
 _Your grip on the sheets was lax. You couldn’t really find any reason to be anything other than totally relaxed; his voice just sent you deeper and deeper, just like you had wanted. Your eyelids fluttered - you couldn’t fall asleep now, not when he ..._  
  
It was difficult to place when you let go and collapsed onto the carpet. The rug burn shocked out out you of your reverie, and you found yourself shivering and panting heavily. What the hell was _that_ ? You tried to pick yourself back up, but your body wasn’t cooperating.  
  
It stung to admit that Papa was right, but ... you really _were_ in no shape to get out of here.  
  
“What the hell did you drug me with?” you spat. If looks could kill, Papa would have withered away into a husk the way you were glaring at him. Yet, he didn’t seem to care at all. He only sipped his tea and politely averted his gaze away from you.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Bullshit!” It almost felt like a stumble of shame to get back onto the mattress, but you had to. You crawled back to the head of the bed and promptly buried yourself under the sheets. You did not, however, take the coffee that Papa held out to you. For all you knew, that was drugged too. ‘Nothing.’ Did he think you were stupid? Really?  
  
“Very well, then.” Papa set down his cup before turning his head to look directly at you. You quickly bowed your head, keeping your eyes firmly on the sheets. “You do not have to believe me. But I am telling the truth.”  
  
“Very convincing. So I’m just supposed to think I’m just so tired from being a fucking designated driver that I can’t walk?” Maybe antagonizing someone when you couldn’t really move wasn’t a great idea. You realized that a bit too late, and you hated how he seemed to be amused by your sheepish expression.  
  
“Like I said, it will come with time.” Papa leaned forward, steepling his hands as he did so. “What _do_ you remember?”  
  
“Nothing much. Maybe if _someone_ hadn’t drugged me and given me a pounding headache because of it, I’d be able to tell you more.”  
  
“Perhaps check your phone,” Papa suggested gently. He just didn’t acknowledge your accusation this time, and you’re not sure if that made him guilty of it or not. Trying to analyze it only worsened your headache. “If nothing else, to tell your friends you will be home later, so they do not worry.”  
  
He gestured to your phone on the night table nearby, right by the alarm. You didn’t really think when you reached out to take it, but once you had the phone in your hands, you couldn’t help but glance over warily. How did _he_ know about _your_ friends? You could try to ask, sure, but he probably wouldn’t give a good answer.  
  
So, instead, you slid up the top part of the phone to reveal the keyboard underneath. It took a moment to open your messenger, with how much you were exhausted and just fumbling pointlessly with your fingers. No messages had been sent overnight.  
  
‘ _Nice that they care about me,_ ’ you thought bitterly. You always texted them to see if they got home safe. Why couldn’t they do the same for you? You’d give them hell for that later, but right now, that was thinking too far ahead. First things first - let them know you’re alive. It looked like you just went off the grid last night.  
  
Weird.  
  
Jake would be the first one you’d tell about this morning. He’d probably find it funny, really, if he believed you at all -- and you would hate that reaction the least. You tapped the arrows to reveal the all messages from last night.  
  
 **_Jake [9:26 PM]_ ** _: hey im sorry man but we got kicked a while ago_ _  
_**_Jake [9:28 PM]_ ** _: :( caleb had way too much_ _  
_**_Jake [9:31 PM]_ ** _: and he tried to get up on the stage and get at the singer dude it was so weird_ _  
_**_Jake [9:33 PM]_ ** _: like he was hellbent on it i hadnt ever seen him act like that before_ _  
_**_Jake [9:33 PM]_ ** _: weird_ _  
_**_Jake [9:34 PM]_ ** _: gonna kick his ass tomorrow lol_ _  
_**_Jake [9:36 PM]_ ** _: anyway we got home just now, you get home safe too_ _  
_  
_“Are you fucking kidding me!?” You’re not sure how you missed these messages, but it definitely explained why your group of friends didn’t even bother showing up after the show had let out. They weren’t exactly hard to miss, so you had just started to think that something bad had happened. But they had left?_ Without you _!?_ _  
__  
__You scowled and channeled your anger into kicking the pebble closest to you as hard as you could, not really caring who or what it hit. This was fucking ridiculous! Why the hell did they drag you all the way out here if a cab was a possibility in the first place!?_ _  
__  
__You had waited outside of the venue for no fucking reason. You hadn’t even had food yet, since you couldn’t camp at the diner - they were too busy to let non-paying customers in. You were bored as hell, tired, and it was all for fucking nothing. You were never going to stick your neck out like this for them ever again._ _  
__  
__You had started to type ‘if you could call a fucking cab, why did you ask me to help,’ but you were interrupted by a gentle tap on the shoulder. You didn’t even have time to look up before you heard whoever it was._ _  
__  
__“I would much appreciate it if you didn’t kick stones at my servants.” The sheer power behind the voice -- the measured tone, despite clear irritation -- was enough to knock some sense into you. You glanced up at whoever spoke, ready to apologize, but instead, you just froze._ _  
__  
__You vaguely recognized him as Papa Emeritus I; your friends had rambled about metal music to the point where you just knew things by osmosis. Seeing pictures of this guy was one thing. Seeing the actual man, in the face paint and robes, looking down at you sternly? You swallowed nervously and clutched your phone just a bit tighter._ _  
__  
__Had you really kicked that stone that far? Shit, you had been angrier than you thought. And now a terrifying anti-pope was pissed at you. Great fucking continuation of the night._ _  
__  
__“Sorry.” You took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. You had to calm down. You didn’t want to make this already terrible situation even worse. “Didn’t mean to kick it at anyone. My friends are just jackasses. They ditched me here.”_ _  
__  
__“Well, I see why you are angry, then.” You could’ve almost collapsed with relief when you heard his tone shift. If anything, he just sounded sympathetic now. Thank fucking_ fuck _for that much. “Do you not have a way home?”_ _  
__  
__“No, I do. I was supposed to drive them home so they could get shitfaced. They left early without letting me know instead.” Even just recounting it made you want to kick more rocks, but you knew better than to actually do that at this point. You just set your jaw and grumbled under your breath instead. “Said they got kicked out.”_ _  
__  
__There was an awkward pause and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had divulged too much info. This guy wasn’t your therapist or anything. Papa Emeritus only hummed softly, stroking his chin for just a moment. You were shocked the makeup didn’t smear from it. What shocked you_ more _was what he said next._ _  
__  
__“Were they perhaps with someone named Caleb? I heard them try to grab him so he would not get onstage, but they just caused more of a ruckus. We had to remove them. Those were your friends?”_ _  
__  
__Christ, you just wanted to be swallowed up by the concrete at this point. Apparently, your_ _  
__“friends” caused so much trouble that he remembered them. Vividly. Fuck, they’d never be able to go to another show again_ and _you associated with those bastards. You grimaced involuntarily._ _  
__  
__“Yeah. I’ll apologize for them. They’re dumbasses when they’re drunk. They shouldn’t have done that. Sorry about that. Hope it didn’t ruin the show or anything.”_ _  
__  
__“Perhaps if you were there to talk some sense into them, that would not have happened.” His chuckle wasn’t exactly contagious, but you did snicker at his remark anyway._

Your text to Jake wasn’t supposed to be an angry one, but actually recalling what had happened ... well. It was impossible for it to be anything else. You couldn’t tell if your fingers were shaking from anger or not, but it made it much more difficult to type.  
  
‘ _Thanks for bailing on me like that, you guys. See if I ever do you a favor again. Fuck off, I need time to calm down._ ’  
  
You then threw the phone onto the bed. Not as satisfying as throwing it onto the ground, sure, but it still had the same effect. You flopped on your back, groaning in agitation. Fuck, your friends were dumbasses. Papa not saying anything didn’t really make you feel better, either.  
  
“Food’s not drugged, right?” you mumbled.  
  
“I would not dream of it. The hotel has worked very hard to make this for us. Why should I change it?”  
  
You glanced at the curtains. That dark red color didn’t exactly seem to fit a beige color scheme. Then, you looked up at the canopy that had been thrown together. Granted, it was pretty well done, but no hotel you knew had a _canopy over the bed_. Not even the fanciest ones. You stared over at Papa with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Why should you change it? You know, like the rest of the room?”  
  
“I am here for another day,” Papa explained with a shrug. “Touring makes me miss my home, so I decided to bring some of home with me. My ghouls will change it all back when we depart.”  
  
You both stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you backing down. Eventually, you let out a defeated sigh. Fuck it. If you died here, then you died here. At least he confirmed you were in a hotel. Most likely, it was under his name; if there was a dead body in his hotel room, or at least signs of it, he’d be fucked.  
  
“Eggs, please.”  
  
“Gladly.”  
  
You weren’t ashamed to take the eggs anymore. While they weren’t the best you’ve ever had, they were definitely edible - especially considering it was hotel breakfast. They didn’t even taste off. You did, however, remain acutely aware of every little motion Papa made - even if that was just him sipping at the tea and making a face at it now and again.  
  
The silence was killing you now. You had to break it with something. _Anything_. So, you said the first thing that came to mind: “I thought that a prestigious rock star anti-pope would have a bigger hotel room.” You immediately cringed after. Did you just develop a talent for cramming your foot down your throat?  
  
Much to your surprise, he seemed to actually take it well. “Oh, I do. I just requested a closed-off bedroom. It helps me feel much safer.”  
  
“Yeah, people tend to be pretty weird about stars. Probably a good call there.” You tried to ignore the fact that you still only had a blanket covering you while saying this. ‘ _... Wait._ ’  
  
“Speaking of, uh ...” You hiked up the blankets a bit further. Now that the shock of the situation had dulled, it was much easier to focus on that. “Why the hell am I naked?” No one else would have noticed Papa twitch at that question, nor the small smirk on his face, but when you didn’t have anything else to focus on, it was hard to not see that.  
  
“I was wondering when you were going to ask. I’m surprised you waited so long.”  
  
You muttered something about ‘worrying about being drugged and poisoned’, then stalled for time by taking another bite of the eggs. Fuck. You were almost done with them and then would have to stay here and talk to him. He clearly wasn’t going anywhere. Fuck. _Fuck_.  
  
“You truly do not remember, then. I am impressed,” Papa murmured softly. “It appears that is more potent on humans than I thought.”  
  
Wait.  
  
 _What?_  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Try to remember.” He sounded so gentle in his encouragement. It only made you more nervous. You visibly tensed but were unable to tear yourself away from his gaze. “Relax, and tell me what happened after that, if you can. We did not part there.”  
  
“But I don’t ...” You trailed off, resenting the lump in your throat, preventing you from speaking further.

 _“You don’t listen to metal?” Papa Emeritus asked with a head tilt. “May I ask why?”_ _  
__  
__“I dunno, it’s just not my thing,” you responded casually. “I prefer lighter music, you know? Relaxing stuff. I mean, hard work goes into it, I know, it’s just ... not something I like very much.”_ _  
__  
__“I see. Is there any particular reason why you do not like it?”_ _  
__  
__You shrugged. “Makes it hard to do spiritual stuff. I just like feeling connected, I guess? The kind of music I listen to helps with that. ”_ _  
__  
__“Ah, a Christian, are you?”_ _  
__  
__You relished in his shocked expression when you responded, “No, I’m not. I do more pagan stuff. Just started dipping my toe in.” It took everything you had to hide a shit-eating grin. Papa Emeritus tilted his head and then smiled. It was far from a predatory one - more of a kind one._ _  
__  
__Not what you expected from a satanic anti-pope._ _  
__  
__“Interesting,” he mused, more to himself than you. You didn’t pay any mind, though. “So you are uncomfortable with the energy we provide with our sound?”_ _  
__  
__“I mean, sure, I guess.” You weren’t really expecting a spiritual debate with someone after being ditched at a concert, but fuck it, you’d bite. Nothing else would out-weird this. “I work with lighter stuff. I don’t really trust the darker side of things. Seems dangerous.”_ _  
__  
__“Fascinating.” Again, he said this so softly that you barely heard it. Clearly not meant for you. When he spoke again, it was much louder. “I would like to hear your view of spirituality in more detail. I’ve not met many people who are openly pagan - most hide it. May we discuss this in a more comfortable setting?”_ _  
__  
__You blinked, stunned. You hadn’t anticipated doing anything else tonight, but ... who else would you talk about this with? Your friends? Probably not, especially not after tonight. “I mean, sure, we can talk about it at the diner if you want.”_ _  
__  
__Papa Emeritus hesitated and visually grimaced at the idea. “Must it be there? I assure you, the hotel room would provide a much better atmosphere for such things.”_ _  
__  
__“I’m not going to the hotel room of some guy I just met. It’s the diner or nothing.”_ _  
__  
__“There is no other restaurant?” Shit, did he almost sound pleading? That was fucking hilarious. Was he really that embarrassed to be seen in a place like that?_ _  
__  
__“Diner. Take it or leave it. Everything else is closed,” you responded. Your tone was firm. Honestly, if he tried to say one more thing to convince you otherwise, you were going to hightail it out of there._ _  
__  
__Much to your relief, he only nodded. He didn’t look pleased, though. “I shall meet you there, then,” he agreed dejectedly. “But I must change. I will not get anything on these robes.”_ _  
__  
__“Sounds good.” You completely ignored his moping and just grinned. “You know where it is, right? Across the street? Bright neon signs. You can’t miss them. It’s just called Metro.”_ _  
__  
__“Creative naming,” Papa Emeritus grumbled under his breath. “Yes, I know which one you mean. I will meet you there. Secure a booth, if you would.”_ _  
__  
__“Sure.”_ _  
__  
_Things felt fuzzy when you came back to your senses. You had to blink a few times for things to come into focus, and a couple of things seemed out of place. Where had your tray gone? Why was Papa leaning forward and resting his head on his hands?  
  
“Welcome back.”  
  
You hadn’t gone anywhere, had you? You stared at Papa, baffled. He looked as calm and collected as ever, simply fixated on you. Was it your imagination, or was his left eye glowing a bit? No, had to be. You were still a bit dizzy from being out of it.  
  
“So.” He bowed his head forward, eyes narrowed slightly. “How are you feeling now? Well enough to walk?”  
  
You decided to just try and test it instead of answering him, but now that you were much more awake and much less desperate to escape, the idea of wandering around naked just didn’t seem great. You wanted a little dignity, if nothing else.  
  
“Could you at least grab my shirt first?”  
  
“Of course.” A part of you felt bad after you saw how long it took Papa to get up, but he bent down to grab the shirt as you requested without any hesitation at all. You took it when offered and hurriedly put it on. It didn’t quite cover your butt, but it would do fine for now.  
  
“All right, let’s see ...” You pushed yourself off of the bed. You didn’t buckle immediately -- good sign. Maybe you could actually get the fuck out of here now. Well, maybe if you weren’t already dizzy again. Fuck, you couldn’t see straight. The room was spinning, the light was blinding ... 

  
No. You had to focus. Just take it slow, and you’d be fine.  
  
You stumbled forward towards the jeans on the floor. You felt the moment you lost your balance, and braced yourself for slamming against the carpet again -- but it never came. Instead, a pair of gloved hands caught you before you fell over. A sudden rush of warmth shot through your whole body, and you let out a strangled gasp.  
  
 _Fuck._  
  
“Wait --”  
  
“Get back to bed,” Papa said soothingly. You went slack and let yourself be guided back to the bed, gently placed over the sheets. As soon as you laid down, the dizziness started to subside. Papa continued to gently stroke your cheek; while it did soothe you, that heat wasn’t going away. In fact, you felt like your skin was about to melt off.  
  
“What’s ... what’re you ...” You couldn’t form a coherent sentence anymore. The leather gloves felt so cool against your burning skin and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into his hand. It felt good -- too good. Too damn good. In fact, it was the only thing that was clearing your head.  
  
“Why am I hot?” you managed to choke out. Papa pulled away his hand and while you hated it, you whined softly. This heat was going to kill you if he didn’t have a hand on you.  
  
“Still in no shape to go home,” Papa said with a sigh. You’re not sure if you heard him say ‘interesting’ or not; you only cared about when he placed a hand on your shoulder. The strange heat vanished just as you melted into his touch. You thought you heard him mumble under his breath, but paid it no mind. “You’re still struggling with the aftermath.”  
  
“What aftermath?” The way he dodged all your questions was beginning to get to you. You mustered all your willpower to say, “Just tell me something. _Anything_. This is getting fucking scary.”  
  
“In time. I assure you that you’re safe --”  
  
“Hard to fucking believe that right now!” you spat. “ _I don’t know where I am_. You haven’t told me why I was fucking naked. You seem to know _why_ I’m acting like this, but won’t fucking _tell me_. How the _hell_ am I supposed to trust you!?”  
  
Papa looked taken aback. His eyes were wide, his hand froze mid-pet, and the touch seemed hesitant. He pulled it back, leaving you aching for that cool leather on your skin, but you didn’t bother saying anything this time. You simply fought through the building haze to stare up at him.  
  
“I apologize,” he said softly. “I had no idea ... no, it would be concerning, yes. Of course, it would be.” You watched, dazed, as he shuffled around the room to pick up your clothes. It was then that you noticed the tray on the night table on the other side of the bed. ‘ _How did that get there ...?_ ’  
  
“It was after we spoke last night. I did not expect you to fall under such deep trance so easily,” Papa started to explain. You struggled to listen carefully; his words had started to slip away. All you could really focus on was the all-consuming heat. You let out a little whimper, shifting under the blankets. Papa glanced over at you, gaze as soft as you’d ever seen it. “You’re colder now.”  
  
The heat snapped away instantly. It didn’t even feel like it lifted - it was just _gone_. You blinked, stunned, but didn’t even have a chance to say anything before he continued.  
  
“We were at the diner,” he continued. Papa laid out your clothes at the foot of the bed carefully, taking care to fold them. “We were talking. Do you remember about what?”

“No, I don’t.” You didn’t even bother trying to hide the way your voice wavered this time. Papa said nothing for a few moments, apparently deep in thought. “What is it?” you asked nervously.  
  
“Do you need a drink?” he asked.  
  
 _“Oh, yeah, just a water for me, thanks.”_ _  
__  
__“You realize I will be paying,” Papa Emeritus said quickly. “If you want more, you are allowed more.”_ _  
__  
__“I mean, I appreciate it, but I really want some water,” you remark with a laugh. “Thanks, though.”_ _  
__  
__Papa Emeritus shook his head before turning to look up at the waiter. “And I will have some tea, if you please. Whatever flavor you have that’s hot.” The waiter jotted down the drink orders and scurried off._ _  
__  
__You glanced around the diner for a moment. At least there was space for you both, despite the place being fucking packed. No surprise, considering everything else was closed at this point, but still. You noticed Papa Emeritus removing his scarf out of the corner of your eye; really, you couldn’t help just looking him over for a moment._ _  
__  
__He really did look different without all that makeup. Older, sure, but not too bad, you thought. He was much less intimidating without the robes - though you had to admit a blazer suited him really well. Of course he had all black on anyway._ _  
__  
__“Isn’t it a bit warm for a scarf?” You couldn’t help a cheeky little grin. Much to your surprise, Papa Emeritus only chuckled._ _  
__  
__“When you get to be my age, it is far easier to get cold,” he replied. “Best to be prepared.”_ _  
__  
__“Okay, fair enough, I guess.”_ _  
__  
__The conversation died for a moment. You fiddled with your phone while waiting for water, he seemed to be scanning the menu, and it was just ... quiet. Not something you were going to complain about. Either way, you were getting a free meal, apparently. Not that you were going to be a dick about it._ _  
__  
__“Are the sausages here edible?”_ _  
__  
__You couldn’t help but snicker. Christ, this man really didn’t know what to expect with a diner, did he? “Yeah, we’ll go with edible at best. Maybe stick with eggs or pancakes, though. That’s one of the few things that actually taste fucking good.”_ _  
__  
__“I don’t know how you convinced me to come here,” he muttered indignantly. “The food in my room would have been much better.”_ _  
__  
__“Yeah, I’m sure.” You rolled your eyes as you put your phone away. “Look, sorry, I know you’re a famous band member or whatever, but I still don’t know you. That’s how people get killed. Not gonna take that risk. Say it again and I’m leaving.”_ _  
__  
__“And I would not want that,” Papa Emeritus admitted with a defeated sigh. “I have to admit, I’ve mostly been dealing with either eager Satanists or angry Christians. While I know there are plenty of other beliefs, I have not gotten to talk to people who_ follow _said beliefs as much as I’ve wanted.”_ _  
__  
__It was around now that the drinks arrived; placing your orders didn’t take too long, and then the waiter was gone in a blink of an eye. Papa Emeritus paused while he took a sip of tea. Then, after a dissatisfied grumble, he got back right to it._ _  
__  
__“So, you say you are a budding pagan.”_ _  
__  
__“Yeah. I mean, I’m still pretty new to all of it.” Fuck, why were you embarrassed? You pushed through the rising anxiety and started talking again. “I’m learning the Rule of Three, about the Triple Goddess, all of that stuff. I mean, I think it’s just going to be the Goddess, not really interested in the God. Just feels right to me.”_ _  
__  
__“So it’s resonated with you, then.” Papa had leaned forward at this point, chin resting on his hands. The fact that he was hanging onto your every word so intently felt flattering somehow. You weren’t sure when you had started smiling, but you were._ _  
__  
__“Just feels nice to get in touch with the Earth, energy that’s already there, rather than relying on something above for it. You know?”_ _  
__  
__“I see.” Seeing another genuine smile on the anti-pope’s face was something else you hadn’t expected. One, sure, but two? Either you were doing a really good job explaining your views or he was just being polite. “You work with energy already there, but only with the light side of it?”_ _  
__  
__It felt like a trap to answer. But he seemed so genuinely curious so far ... you furrowed your brow, trying to figure out how to phrase your answer. You had to be choosy with your words here._ _  
__  
__“I mean, I’ve read enough about how dangerous that shit is,” you began carefully. “Especially for a beginner. I’m sure it works for people, but for someone just learning? I don’t think it’s a good idea. If you’re not careful, it can really fuck you up.”_ _  
__  
__“Well, I can understand your nervousness.” Another sip of tea for him, and another few tense, quiet moments for you. You kept your eyes on him, though. “Is that how you will always practice?”_ _  
__  
__“Well, if it works for me, then yeah. Haven’t gotten to do much spell work and shit because of where I live, so it’s hard to say right now.” You shrugged your shoulders in an attempt to look casual. “I just think it’s dangerous to do dark shit. Sorry.” You expected Papa Emeritus to lash out at you for this; you tensed reflexively, bracing yourself for the inevitable._ _  
__  
__He was silent for a moment, deep in thought. You couldn’t help but notice a profound sadness in his eyes._ _  
__  
__“Christianity has had very good propaganda for many, many years,” Papa Emeritus said with a shake of his head. “It’s a shame to see it bleed into other beliefs, as well. The darkness can be rather frightening, if one does not know what they are doing. I will agree to that. But.”_ _  
__  
__“But?” Fuck, you’ve never hated that word more than right now._ _  
__  
__“If you completely disregard a type of energy that is already there, how can you truly be in touch with any of it? If you ignore part of what makes you a creature of the Earth, you are doing yourself a disservice.” This time, you had a bit of water while he had another bit of tea. Really, it was just to buy you some time._ _  
__  
__You legitimately had no idea what to say. You were anticipating some sort of satanic rant, but he actually sounded_ reasonable _. His smile faded, replaced with a frown, while you mulled over his words._ _  
__  
__At least the food arrived to give you a bit more time to formulate a response._ _  
__  
__“You were right about the eggs. These are not bad.”_ _  
__  
__“At least I’m right about that much,” you snarked back with a laugh. “Christ --” He flinched, and you regretted saying that immediately. The awkward silence between you two could at least be explained if you ate something. So, you did -- just for a bit._ _  
__  
__“Sorry,” you said after a few bites. “Didn’t mean to fuck with you. Just sort of a phrase I use.”_ _  
__  
__“I understand.” At least he was gracious about it. You felt yourself relax, again, and wondered how the hell he could be so fucking patient when met with shit like that. Maybe he got it a lot? That was the best you had._ _  
__  
__“I mean, I guess you’re right?” It hurt to say it, but fuck it. He knew he was right, at least on some level. Why lie? “Don’t know. Didn’t think about it being Christian propaganda. We just don’t think Satan’s, you know, a thing.”_ _  
__  
__“I have heard that.” Papa Emeritus nodded in affirmation. “And yet, you still fear the darker energies.” All you could do in response was take another bite of one of your pancakes. You had no fucking idea what to say to that, either. Was it really propaganda? Was it really something you could explore safely if you wanted to?_ _  
__  
__It was something that make you think. And you really, really didn’t like that._ _  
_

“So, we had a discussion on theology or whatever. I don’t get why that would get me here when I really hadn’t planned on letting you.” You took a sip of the water Papa had gotten you and then set it on the night table.  
  
“That is not all we discussed.” Papa had sat closer to you, respectfully tilting his head away from you while you got your pants back on. “We got somewhat ... ah ...” He trailed off and rubbed his chin. Fuck, you hated this bullshit.  
  
“Somewhat _what_?”  
  
“Distracted, as it were.” You noticed how he swallowed when saying this, and how he fidgeted with the robes he wore. How his breaths were short and just a bit more shallow, even though he clearly tried to control them.  
  
It sounded ... familiar, somehow. All of it did.  
  
 _“Good. Deeper.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _You hummed pleasantly as Papa gripped your hair, pulling just enough to make you moan around his cock. The warmth that coursed through your body made following every order worth it; you took him in deeper without a moment of hesitation._ _  
_ _  
_ _It felt good to obey Papa. It felt good to trust Papa. It felt good to serve Papa --_  
  
You shook off the memory as soon as possible and attempted to _also_ shake off how uncomfortably hot your cheeks felt. Why were you aching? _‘It felt good to serve Papa._ ’ What the actual fuck were you _on_ last night? Why was it getting to you?  
  
“Yeah. Just figured that out.” You wanted to dive under the sheets and curl up until he just left. That way you could slip away unnoticed and never have to think about this ever again. Fuck, what the fuck, what the _shit_?  
  
“Ah, so it is coming to you.” You couldn’t pinpoint if he was nervous or relieved. Maybe it was both - Papa still wasn’t moving much, but you felt some shifting around on the bed. Did he stand up? “Do you want me to explain, or do you wish to figure it out for yourself?”  
  
“I don’t know.” You took a deep breath and tried to think about a good answer. While remembering it directly yourself was one thing -- it meant he couldn’t control the narrative -- it would be fucking embarrassing if it did go that way. But having him explain it? No, you didn’t fully trust him yet.  
  
Fuck. You had no idea. Maybe now was the time to just go. You started to stand up; now that you were dressed, and that you had your bag right there, it’d be so easy to get out --  
  
“Wait, I have not undone that trigger yet!” You only somewhat heard Papa’s panicked reaction. The dizziness from earlier hit you full force once you stood up again and you stumbled back onto the bed. You fell backwards, unable to help another whimper. It just felt so damn intense, you just had to --  
  
“Papa?” you weakly said.  
  
“Rise safely.” He rushed over towards you and gripped your hands gently to pull you back up. The dizziness didn’t fade quite as quickly as that unbearable heat had, but the difference was stark enough to leave you reeling. The way his thumb gently stroked your knuckles left you weak; you tilted your head up to smile at him absentmindedly.  
  
 _It felt good to obey Papa. It felt good to serve Papa._  
  
“Take your time. Take your time ...”  
  
 _“I don’t know about this.” Even in the crowded diner, where you knew you couldn’t be heard, even entertaining an idea like this seemed taboo somehow. “You putting me under? For spiritual stuff? How can I trust you?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Papa Emeritus once again smiled. Every time he did, you found yourself smiling back at him. He squeezed your hand in a comforting manner._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Consider that I wish to know more as well. I do not get this opportunity often. And if using my powers enabled you to discover more about yourself, well, that would be even better. You would not be shackled by propaganda - you would know what works best for you and be able to consider all sides of things. I do not care that you do not share my beliefs.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Really?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“No. I only wish for you to know your own, in full, with no one holding you back.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _You couldn’t say anything against that. Not really. You glanced around at the other patrons; really, you expected them to be staring at you with nothing but contempt. They were actually totally ignoring you. They had no fucking idea what was going on right under their noses._ _  
_ _  
_ _You were only more excited by that. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You’d always been interested in hypnosis, but never expected a chance to actually have it done to you. Never mind by someone with as much power as he claimed to have. Fuck, why were you buying this? This was so stupid._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Prove to me you can do it first.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Very well.” Papa Emeritus took a breath, sat up straight, and looked you dead in the eye. You swore that his left eye started to glow, but it was hard to see under the bright lights of the diner. Even so, you found it impossible to look away once he started staring at you in earnest._ _  
_ _  
_ _Everything else around you seemed to melt away. The lights were dimmer -- Papa Emeritus’ eye shone brighter than anything else now. The chatter around you gradually grew quieter and quieter, until you could only hear his voice._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Release the tension in your body for me. Let your shoulders relax. Unclench your jaw.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _You hadn’t realized how tense you were until he pointed it out. Relaxing your shoulders and face already made you feel so much better. You’re not sure when you almost knocked over your cup from your hand going limp -- you really didn’t care. Everything felt so calm. So slow. So ..._ nice _._ _  
_ _  
_ _“... remember this state of mind,” Papa continued. Shit, wait, when had you tuned him out? You struggled to focus more, but every word slipped away from you as soon as they were said. All you could remember was the tone of his words: comforting. Commanding. All-encompassing. You smiled absently and enjoyed the deepness and richness of his wonderful voice. No wonder Caleb had been so captivated. If you were allowed to, you’d listen to him for hours. “Remember how relaxed you are now. Remember that it was I who did this to you, that I am the one that made you feel so good. That you can trust me.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _You heard a finger snap and the world snapped back into place. You blinked, stunned -- and only realized that the snap came from Papa Emeritus when you saw him put his glove back on._ _  
_ _  
_ _“How are you feeling?’_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Amazing,” you breathed out. You really did, too. Your body felt completely relaxed, your mind was at ease, and just hearing his voice helped you keep hold of that relaxation. Fuck. He could actually do it. He had just done it to you. You let yourself bask in the feeling for just a few seconds._ _  
_ _  
_ _It’s about how long you had before he snapped you out of it. You bit back a whimper and shifted in your seat. Fuck, that was hotter than you thought it would have been and he fucking ruined it --_ _  
_ _  
_ _“So, do you believe me now?” Papa Emeritus’s cheeky little grin left you laughing; he looked so damn proud of himself. That was enough to snap you out of your funk. “The effects were almost immediate. I have never seen someone go under that fast.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Well, I mean, uh ...” Fuck. Shit. Fuck. “I mean, I’ve always sort of been turned on b--” Your eyes widened, and the grip on your fork wavered. Wait -- no! You hadn’t meant to say that, not at all. You stammered for a moment, totally unable to form anything resembling a coherent explanation._ _  
_ _  
_ _“By what?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _You blurted out the answer before you could stop yourself. “By hypnosis.”_ _  
_ _  
_‘No, dumbass! Don’t double down! What the fuck! Why did you say that!?’ _  
_ _  
_ _Papa Emeritus blinked first; he was probably just as shocked as you were. After a moment, you saw the glint in his eye and a smug little smirk. You felt your breath hitch at the sight. It was such a fast change from just a minute ago._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Um, I--”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Is that so?” he asked softly. The husky tone would’ve fucking made you buckle on the spot if you had been standing. Papa Emeritus’ voice already had a rich baritone to it - and that just sounded unlike anything you had ever heard. You shifted uncomfortably underneath his amused gaze._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Well, if that is the case ...” He took your hand again, gently running his thumb over your hand. You trembled underneath his touch. “If you wish, I can do more. Far more than what I did there. That was only an introduction.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _You knew it was a bad idea in theory. But you could trust him, right? You knew that deep inside, though it was something he told you to believe. Even knowing that, you still did trust him with all your heart._ _  
_ _  
_ _So, you nodded._ _  
_ _  
_“I went back to the room with you, then.”  
  
“You did, of your own accord.” Papa’s hands wrung together -- not something you had seen before. “I would not have brought you had you not truly wanted it. You made your boundaries clear.”  
  
You couldn’t be angry at him anymore, no matter how much you tried to be. You grit your teeth as you cursed yourself for being such a goddamn sucker. You couldn’t believe a kink of yours got you here. You couldn’t fucking believe any of this, actually. A dim part of you still hoped this was a weird-ass fever dream. You knew it wasn’t, but still.  
  
“I believe you.” Papa sighed with relief at that.  
  
The two of you sat quietly for a few moments. All of the sounds seemed so muted: the cars going by, people talking outside, faint music ... none of it really helped you feel better. Your phone went off a few times -- probably your friends realizing what dicks they were -- but it didn’t seem like that big of a deal right now. Fuck, where would you two even go from here? Could you really just leave without all the answers?  
  
You wanted to, but you didn’t _want_ to. Not really. Your curiosity was going to fucking kill you. You just wish you could think of a question.  
  
Wait a moment.  
  
“Do I need to get tested or anything? You weren’t shitty enough to not use protection, right?”  
  
“Of course not!” This was the first time you heard Papa sound genuinely offended - and you never wanted to hear it again. He almost looked wounded at the question. “You had wanted it to be used. I would never go against that.”  
  
“Okay, okay, sorry.” You pinched the bridge of your nose in an attempt to will away the headache that was trying to come back. “Tell me what happened, then. Just finish up so I can go.”  
  
Papa nodded in agreement as he shifted his body to face yours.  
  
“When we arrived, I guided you here, to the bed,” Papa started. You found it easier to hang onto every single word of his this time, and leaned forward to show how attentive you were. Not that he was looking in your direction right now. “You were still so pliant, so docile. So ready for me.”  
  
You didn’t remember it directly, but you could picture it easily: you coming in, trailing behind Papa, and being told to lie down. In that state, you would’ve just let yourself be guided to whatever position he wanted you to be in. Blank. Mindless. Totally obedient to him.  
  
You crossed one leg over the other at the thought and bit your lip. Just the image of him towering over you left you aching. Maybe it was because he had actually done that and you dimly remembered it, ‘ _Fuck, please don’t notice._ ’ It would be a small kindness right now.  
  
“I started to implement triggers.” Papa paused for a moment. “Now, with hypnosis, even with as powerful as I am, it can never make you do anything that you are truly reluctant to do. So there are some you did not accept, and I did not force them.”  
  
“That’s a fucking relief.” You hated to admit that made you relax, but knowing that he didn’t make you do any freaky shit you weren’t actually into did actually help. “So, uh, which ones do I have?”  
  
“Well ...” Crap, why did he hesitate? Did he not remember them all? Fuck. Fuuuck -- “Only a few, truly. For one, that you trusted me. It is essential for that sort of play. Two, to keep you close, I made it so you got dizzy when you tried to walk, as you can tell.”  
  
“Noticed that.”  
  
“Besides, you looked so breathtaking on your knees for me. I hardly wanted you anywhere else.” You definitely noticed the look Papa gave you when he said this. Sly. _Predatory_. You let out a shaky exhale in response and cursed yourself for it. Papa’s chuckle told you that he knew everything you didn’t want him to.  
  
Fuck, why was this still so _hot_?  
  
“The heat, I know you felt that as well. Your body burning until put my hands on you.” His voice started to tremble - slightly, almost impossible to notice, but you did. “I had you craving my touch. Begging for it.”  
  
You sharply inhaled as you briefly recalled what you had felt earlier. It really _had_ felt like your skin was on fire. The only thing that had relieved it was Papa’s gloved hands on you, stroking your cheek, resting on your shoulder -- you failed to stifle a tiny whimper.  
  
He had shifted closer to you. When, you didn’t know. But Papa had a hand out towards you, though he had paused before directly touching you. You stared at each other for a moment, and you couldn’t help how both of you were taking shorter breaths. How his shoulders were rising and falling at a quicker pace. How yours were, too.  
  
“May I ...”  
  
“Yeah,” you breathed out. When he actually brushed his hand against your neck, you trembled. Papa’s touch was so gentle, so soft ... you melted, humming happily as he traced your jawline with his fingers.  
  
“I had you here, to start,” Papa continued. “Laid out before me, just like this.” He brushed the collar of your shirt. “Though with fewer clothes on.”  
  
He gently gripped your chin and tilted your head to look into his eyes. Not the exact thing you were expecting, but one you were excited for. Just the thought of being put under a second time made you wet. You would be just as docile as you were before, subject to every single one of his whims again.  
  
You were confused, however, when you didn’t see his eye glowing.  
  
“I am not going to hypnotize you again,” Papa said sternly. He must have seen the deflated look you gave, because he quickly followed up with: “Only because I want you to remember every single moment of this.”  
  
With that, he gently shoved you on your back. You flopped against the pillows bonelessly, perfectly content to just let Papa take the lead. He slipped a hand under the bottom of your shirt, gloved fingers brushing against your hips ever so lightly. This time, you didn’t even bother to try and hold back a needy whine.  
  
“Patience,” he purred. Him saying that just made you want him to move faster. Instead, he slowed down even further, taking his sweet time to pull up your shirt. Papa let his hands graze against your stomach and chest, each tantalizing, teasing touch just leaving you aching for more. He mightn’t have been using any triggers, but your body already felt like it was on fire all the same.  
  
You squirmed underneath him and thanked whatever fucking deity he worshiped when he finally pulled off your shirt. Having him stroke and pet your bare skin, however slowly, felt so fucking good. You wanted more -- anything he’d give you.  
  
“Please,” you whimpered. “Please --”  
  
“Yes, begging just like that.” He teased the hem of your jeans as he spoke. “You sounded so wonderful then, and you sound wonderful now.”  
  
“Papa!”  
  
“ _Patience_. Or do you wish for me to stop entirely?” You bit your tongue and willed yourself to be silent the second he started to pull his hands away from you. “Now, where was I ...”  
  
Your breath hitched when you heard the zipper being undone. Once he undid the button as well, you lifted your hips so he could pull your pants down easily. Much to your frustration, he left your briefs untouched. You knew you had a wet spot. He knew you did, too -- and yet, he ignored it. Despite every nerve screaming for just the lightest stroke, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want him to stop any of this.  
  
“I explored every part of you first,” Papa murmured gently. He traced a hand down your side and slid it down your hip. The way he gently caressed your thigh left you trembling -- and he completely ignored that too. “I wanted to see you bare before me - to see what belonged to me that night in its entirety. And I was far from disappointed.”  
  
Your eyes fluttered shut. Even when not in trance, his praise sounded like the sweetest song to you. It left you floating, coasting on his kind words. “Thank you, Papa,” you whispered.  
  
“And you ...” He ran his fingertips along the inside of your thighs. “You looked just this. You hardly needed to say anything. I saw how desperate you were for me, even when you could not speak it.” Papa looked directly into your eyes -- and his smirk was more than enough to leave you trembling in need. “Like now.”  
  
You couldn’t help but notice that Papa started to remove one of his gloves. Did that mean he would touch you? You glanced between Papa and his glove nervously. Fuck, you’d wish he’d undo that faster. He looked too damn amused, and if anything, just seemed to slow down.  
  
‘ _Patience._ ’ You had to not say anything, but fuck, it was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Papa took his sweet time to pull off the glove, carefully setting it aside on the night table ... fuck, what was he going to do? What the hell was he planning?  
  
You let out a shaky breath when Papa stroked your cheek with his still-gloved hand and leaned into his tender touch. He trailed his fingers across your skin so lightly that you could barely feel it at all. In fact, when he actually brushed his thumb against your clit, it came completely out of nowhere.  
  
“Shit!” You arched your back and gasped, thrusting your hips up to try and get just a bit more pressure -- and you whined when Papa pulled back again.  
  
“I did not say you could do that.”  
  
“Come on, Papa, please! I’m fucking dying over here!” you pleaded. He continued to tease and touch you, infuriatingly away from the one spot you wanted him to touch most. His chuckle let you know that it was deliberate.  
  
“I decide what you feel, and when you do.” He leaned over you and planted a gentle kiss on your neck. You shivered at the sensation; it only felt right to tilt your head to the side. “Do you _not_ like this?”  
  
“Yes! No, I mean -- I do!” You panted heavily as he continued to kiss you. His hot breath hit your skin in the most tantalizing way; with every one he left, you ached for more. If only if it was skin-to-skin, if only ... fuck, he’d be so damned warm. But the robes were in the way, and he didn’t appear to be interested in removing them.  
  
“I thought so,” he purred.  
  
Papa kept tormenting you - every time you even dared to squirm, he would promptly pull his hand back. He would stroke and tease you with his uncovered hand while stroking your hair with the other one. He would gently kiss and nip at your ear, your jawline, your neck, your collarbone -- but never go any lower. Every moan made him hum in satisfaction, but it didn’t encourage him to speed things up.  
  
By the time he brushed your clit with his thumb again, you weren’t able to help arching up your hips again. You almost sobbed in desperation; he had riled you up so much and he didn’t intend on letting you have any relief any time soon. And now that you had raised your hips without his permission, surely he’d stop again, right?  
  
“I want to hear you beg for it,” he whispered into your ear instead.  
  
The idea of doing anything else was completely lost on you. You didn’t even hesitate: “Please! Please, for fuck’s sake, just touch me, _please_!”  
  
“If that is what you want.” You didn’t have time to remark on how smug he sounded; by the time you opened your mouth, he had pushed a single finger inside of you. You inhaled sharply and whimpered as he moved it in and out of you at the same agonizingly slow pace.  
  
“You moved just like this,” he continued nonchalantly. “Rocking against me, just as you are now, so hungry for more. Is that not right?”  
  
“Yes!” Now that he mentioned it, you had started rocking your hips to get his fingers in just a bit deeper. When, you didn’t know, but you didn’t care too much either. Papa curled his fingers -- oh fuck he had two in there, when did he get two in there -- inside of you, teasing your most sensitive spot over and over again. He didn’t let up, but he was very careful to not push you over the edge. Despite your body being on fire, he wasn’t going to let you finish. Not until he wanted you to.  
  
Knowing that just made you burn for him all the more.  
  
You gripped the silken sheets tightly. You couldn’t relax under his expert manipulation of your body. Every motion he made, every touch, every brush of his lips -- they just sent you further and further into a haze, just like you had wanted. You squeezed your eyes shut. He couldn’t stop now, not when you were so close.  
  
“Papa!”  
  
Papa didn’t say anything to you -- he only growled. That along with the feeling of his hard cock pressing up against your thigh was almost too much for you to handle. You whimpered, then gasped, then moaned softly as he bit down on your neck. _Hard_. It was totally unlike anything he’d ever done up to this point, and judging from how he started to grind against you, you clearly were affecting him too.  
  
“I do not need hypnosis to control you,” Papa growled into your ear. His breaths were short, ragged -- _animalistic_. Not something you had heard from him before, but something you wanted to hear from him again and again. “You belong to me even without it.”  
  
You didn’t know if you were the one agreeing with him. You had to be, right? That had to be your voice mindlessly begging for more, agreeing with him, whimpering, calling his name ...  
  
You whined when he suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. They had felt so damn good in there, and now -- wait. Was he pulling up his robes? Oh, _fuck_.  
  
Apparently, he didn’t have any pants under there. Maybe that was just for the shows, or ... something. Maybe he didn’t bother to put them on today? You didn’t know, nor did you really care. All you could focus on was his hard cock - it looked just as impressive as it did the last time you saw it.  
  
Fuck, you wished that he’d just pull you over and fuck your face like he did last time.  
  
“I think you want more. But I want to hear you _say_ it.” You tore your gaze away from between his legs and looked directly into his eyes. His left eye was glowing again. A dim glow, something you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been staring so intently. It was so ... beautiful. Captivating.  
  
Even though you knew what was going to happen, you couldn’t look away.  
  
Once again, the world around you slipped out of focus. The aura around his eye grew brighter and brighter, and you slipped further and further into bliss. You smiled lazily; you didn’t even feel your shoulders go slack.  
  
“Say it.”  
  
“Please fuck me, Papa.” It came out as more of a sigh rather than a plead, as did your delighted sound when he bit down on you again. Nothing mattered except for Papa. If Papa was happy, you were happy.  
  
It felt good to obey Papa. It felt so good to trust Papa. It felt good to serve Papa.  
  
There were a few agonizing moments where nothing happened. At least, they would have been agonizing if you hadn’t dropped. You lolled your head to look over at your Papa to see him slipping a condom on. Your smile widened.  
  
You blinked and he was already on top of you.  
  
Papa gently pushed your legs open and positioned himself above you. He didn’t enter you right away; instead, he took the time to run his hands down your thighs and calves. You could hear vague sounds of approval, see his smile ... the soft glow around his eye.  
  
“Are you ready?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Good.” Papa reached out to stroke your cheek softly. You felt him shake with anticipation, and yet his touches were so comforting. You leaned into his caress with a happy hum, now completely at ease.  
  
Relaxed, on the other hand? No, you couldn’t be -- not entirely. Not when you could feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. Not when he decided to rub up against your slit. No, you couldn’t relax at all.  
  
“Remember all of this,” he whispered into your ear. The words took a hold on you, wrapped around your mind. You _had_ to obey. It felt _good_ to obey. “Remember _every moment_ I am inside of you.”  
  
“Yes, Papa.” You took a deep breath and waited. You had been patient for so long; a few more moments were nothing. Besides, while you couldn’t recall last night, you knew it had been amazing. If it was just like this? It had to have been.  
  
You nearly saw stars the moment Papa pushed inside of you. He was careful with it, not nearly as fast as you wanted -- but that only made you cry out for him more. Once he pushed all the way in, he waited for a few moments. You didn’t care that he did so -- most likely, he was waiting for you to adjust again. But he was _in you_.  
  
“Very good.” Once again, his praise made your heart flutter. “You’re doing very, very well ...”  
  
Papa started fucking you slowly, steadily, and he slipped in and out of you so easily. You weren’t sure when you had wrapped your arms around him to keep him close, nor were you sure when you had started whimpering and whining again, but why did you care? Every time he thrust into you, that wonderful fire he ignited burned brighter and brighter. All you wanted was that heat. All you wanted was _relief_. You wanted it to consume you from the inside out, you _needed it to_.  
  
Nothing else mattered.  
  
“Papa, you -- feel --” You were cut off by a hard thrust. Whatever else you had to say didn’t feel important right now; his growling was more than sufficient to push you closer and closer to the edge. You clutched at him tightly, digging your nails into his upper back. That provoked another primal snarl from your Papa -- and harder, faster thrusts.  
  
It was impossible to stay quiet at this point. Your moans and his growls were a melody of their own, and your bodies maintained the perfect rhythm for you both. It couldn’t end -- you didn’t want it to end. But _fuck_ , you were so damn close and you were desperate to finish at this point. The pleasure kept building and building much faster than you wanted it to.  
  
Even through your haze, you blamed his teasing. He had just been too good at it, and you needed him, and with as hard as he was going, you could feel yourself getting closer with every passing second.  
  
“Yes -- fuck!” You cried out in renewed desperation, mewling in delight. “I’m -- Papa, I’m --”  
  
“ _Do not finish until I tell you to._ ” His words were like ice on your building inferno and an unwanted call back to reality. You gasped and whined, biting your tongue and using every ounce of your willpower to follow his orders.  
  
You had to obey. You had to serve.  
  
“Yes, Papa,” you whimpered. It was hard to even say that - thinking was impossible on its own, never mind talk. You could just feel him fuck you hard, feel his hot shaky breaths on your neck, hear every wonderful guttural snarl that he made as soon as he pushed all the way inside, every time. You’re not sure how long it went on for; all of your focus was on was each and every wonderful sensation that he gifted you with.  
  
There was a moment where something changed -- a lone shudder from your Papa. It was your only warning before you felt Papa’s cock pulse and throb inside of you. You clung tighter to him, but it wasn’t necessary; he had pressed up against you at this point, and every little grunt and snarl he made was right up to your ears.  
  
“Please, please -- let me --”  
  
“Finish for me,” Papa snarled.  
  
The flame he had fanned all morning finally consumed you, just as you had wanted. White-hot pleasure blinded you, leaving you writhing and twitching underneath him. The pleasure overwhelmed you and you’re sure that was your voice screaming Papa’s title -- until he put a hand over your mouth, at least. Your voice was muffled by his still-gloved hand; that scent of leather combined with his soft words kept you going.  
  
And going.  
  
And going.  
  
“Yes,” you heard him say. “Good. Just like that. Call for me.” You tried to do so, but his hand muffled you.  
  
It eventually had to end, you knew. Yet, when you collapsed upon the bed, you wished it hadn’t. You panted heavily and stared up at Papa -- his once again gentle gaze and his warm smile. You let yourself go and coasted on the lingering feelings of bliss, even when you felt him move off of you.  
  
You’re sure you felt him shift off of the bed, perhaps heard him throw something in the trash, but it was hard to pay attention to anything right now. It was even a struggle to fully register him getting back onto the bed.  
  
“How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice sounded so far away compared to earlier; you ached to feel him close to you again. He should be far, far closer.  
  
Of course, verbalizing this? Impossible. All you could do was nod, contented. You still felt hazy, but at least you could catch your breath. The world still blurred at the edges; that pleasant glow didn’t help that much, but you didn’t really want it to. You shut your eyes, took a deep breath, and just let yourself come back down.  
  
The feeling of Papa’s skin against yours, the way he ran his hand through your hair so gently, his soft breaths ... why did you ever want to leave?  
  
“Just as wonderful as before,” he said with a chuckle. Papa shifted to hover over you. The glow around his eye was gone. You knew that everything would snap into focus eventually -- whatever he did this morning, while strong, wasn’t going to knock you out. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy it. Not like you were going to see him again.  
  
Right?  
  
Papa had shifted off of you at this point, content to simply lay beside you. You didn’t resist when he guided you closer to him, nor did you stop him from wrapping an arm around you. You just cuddled up next to him with a happy sigh.  
  
“Well, good.” You forced out a laugh as you let one hand idly trace his bare chest. Maybe it was because you two just fucked and were still coming down from that, but he seemed a lot warmer than humans were supposed to be. ‘ _Fuck, he could be a personal heater._ ’  
  
“You know you’re not allowed to move ever again.”  
  
“Oh?” He sounded amused - definitely looked it with that twinkle in his eye. “And why not?”  
  
“My heating unit back at the apartment isn’t nearly as good as you are.”  
  
You hadn’t heard Papa’s laughter before now. It sounded raspy, deep ... captivating, just like the rest of him. It struck you dumb for a moment. Hell, it even took you a second to tune back into what he was saying.  
  
“... as I have said, I’m checking out tomorrow. So, I will have to move eventually.”  
  
“Yeah, I figured.” Fuck, the dude was such a buzzkill. You sighed to yourself and shut your eyes. “Can’t I dream?”  
  
“Dream all you wish.” Once again, that little chuckle left you redder than you wanted to admit to. “I will not stop you.”  
  
The both of you laid there in silence for quite some time. You didn’t want to move and neither did he. The sun had started to filter through the closed curtains -- they must have been thinner than you thought. But it brought in some extra warmth.  
  
Nothing would really beat Papa in that vein, though. You snuggled up closer and rested your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat and his now calm, steady breaths almost made you fall asleep again. His hand still combed through your hair, which only made you melt further.  
  
It was just so pleasantly quiet. So peaceful. Right now, nothing else existed.  
  
Well, not until your phone buzzed multiple times. You were able to ignore it the first couple of times, but then it kept going. Fuck, how many times did it go off? Six times? Seven? You groaned in frustration and reluctantly pulled away from your Papa.  
  
“Your friends, I assume?”  
  
“Who apparently can’t take a fucking hint that I don’t want to talk to them, yeah.” You reached out and grabbed your phone.  
  
It was from Jake. No surprise to you, but not something you wanted to see right now. Even so, you at least should look and see what he said. Not like he knew you’d read them, right?  
  
 ** _Jake [8:36 AM]_** _: hey listen i know we screwed up but we didnt expect that shit to happen_ _  
_ ** _Jake [8:36 AM]_** _: sorry :(_ _  
_ ** _Jake [8:39 AM]_** _: calebs better today. he was so plastered. he doesnt remember anything_ _  
_ ** _Jake [8:41 AM]_** _: did u get home safe_ _  
_ ** _Jake [8:43 AM]_** _: oh u dont wanna talk sorry_ _  
_ ** _Jake [8:44 AM]_** _: yea fair we fucked up lol_ _  
_ ** _Jake [8:44 AM]_** _: ttyl_

“Dense fuckin’ asshole.” You put your phone back down and flopped back onto the bed. Papa didn’t have to pull you over this time; he could’ve been a damned magnet with how fast you clung to him again. “He’ll be lucky if I talk to him at all this week.”  
  
“A truly scathing punishment.”  
  
“Yeah, he’ll be missing me three days in.”  
  
“So they will not be expecting you any time soon, then,” Papa mused. “If that is the case, we never did finish our discussion ...”  
  
You glanced up at him, then let your eyes roam his body once again. You couldn’t help but grin when you met his eyes.  
  
“Damn shame.”  
  
“We could now, if you wish.”  
  
“I’d like that.”  
  
Sure, maybe you meant it. He did too, most likely. But your gazes lingered on each other just a little too long. The silence was just something you wanted to hold onto for a little while longer; you weren’t quite ready to let that go just yet.  
  
So when he leaned in to kiss you, you didn’t stop him. It was something soft. Something oddly sweet for a Satanic pope. His lips were just as intoxicating as the rest of him. You melted into the kiss and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body against his as you did so.  
  
You two would get around to that discussion eventually.  
  
 _Eventually._


End file.
